ht be. Who could know?

Pondering this and other subjects, I remained in my cozy little room
up-stairs, till the clock verging on to twelve told me that it was
nearly time for Mrs. Packard's return.

Hardly knowing my duties as yet, or what she might expect of me, I kept
my door open, meaning to speak to her when she came in. The thought had
crossed my mind that she might not return at all, but remain away with
her friends. Some fear of this kind had been in Mr. Packard's mind and
naturally found lodgment in mine. I was therefore much relieved when,
sharp on the stroke of midnight, I heard the front door-bell ring,
followed by the sound of her voice speaking to the old butler. I thought
its tone more cheerful than before she went out. At all events, her face
had a natural look when, after a few minutes' delay, she came upstairs
and stepped into the nursery--a room on the same floor as mine, but
nearer the stair-head.

From what impulse did I put out my light? I think now, on looking back,
that I hoped to catch a better glimpse of her face when she came out
again, and so be in a position to judge whether her anxiety or secret
distress was in any special way connected with her child. But I forgot
the child and any motive of this kind which I may have had; for when
Mrs. Packard did reappear in the hall, there rang up from some place
below a laugh, so loud and derisive and of so raucous and threatening a
tone that Mrs. Packard reeled with the shock and I myself was surprised
in spite of my pride and usual impassibility. This, had it been all,
would not be worth the comment. But it was not all. Mrs. Packard did
not recover from the shock as I expected her to. Her fine figure
straightened itself, it is true, but only to sink again lower and lower,
till she clung crouching to the stair-rail at which she had caught for
support, while her eyes, turning slowly in her head, moved till they met
mine with that unseeing and glassy stare which speaks of a soul-piercing
terror--not fear in any ordinary sense, but terror which lays bare the
soul and allows one to see into depths which--

But here my compassion drove me to action. Advancing quietly, I caught
at her wrap which was falling from her shoulders. She grasped my hand as
I did so.

"Did you hear that laugh?" she panted. "Whose was it? Who is
down-stairs?"

I thought, "Is this one of the unaccountable occurrences which have
given the house its blighted reputation?" but I s